


A Room With A View

by Gemenied



Series: Blue Skies [11]
Category: Waking the Dead (TV)
Genre: Challenge Response, F/M, Romance, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-14
Updated: 2012-10-14
Packaged: 2017-11-16 07:43:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/537123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gemenied/pseuds/Gemenied
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They're having a heatwave.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Room With A View

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: sweat
> 
> A/N: This one is not only to be blamed on Joodiff, but also entirely for her and her blood pressure. Shallow is a good way of life. But by all means, all of you...enjoy!

**A Room With A View**

She isn't normally so shallow. In fact, she's not shallow at all, and really way beyond this line of thought. It's not appropriate for a woman of her age and professional position. She could analyse this to a 'T', but since it would be herself she's analysing, she prefers to refrain from it, preferring to rather...uhm...stare.

She thinks she can't really be blamed for her shallow thoughts, because it's really too easy to fall into the trap.

It's hot. Granted.

So she is hot.

It's not entirely due to the heat and the fact that, of course, on a day like this, when London experiences a real heatwave with temperatures over 30C, the air conditioning in the building breaks down.

He's already had a few choice words to say on the matter and she didn't stop him.

Now, however, she thinks - shallowly - that it is a blessing in disguise.

They are all hot and thus nobody will notice that she isn't only hot, but bothered as well.

Very hot and very bothered.

There's something so utterly male about it, she decides, not that he needs an extra in this regard. He's got manliness in spades (and he knows it too); it's part of his 'charm'. So, when he goes around with his manly, testosterone-filled swagger, it certainly affects her, but she's learned to deal with it.

Pure self-preservation. She's too old and too wise for schoolgirl swoons, though they would be typical for her age-inappropriate shallowness.

Her eyes wander up and down his spine, lingering on the muscles in his back moving as he pulls the metal object further into the room.

In a way, she regrets that he didn't do just a spot more of the bad boy routine. No tattoos on his back.

Too bad.

Leaning back in her chair, she ignores the annoying stickiness of the faux leather under her backside. She can't really do what he's done. Not without consequences, at least. Definitely not in this place.

So she goes back to (not so) covertly ogling him.

The physical effort he makes to haul more ventilators into their offices certainly has an effect. Not only is there rippling muscles and dancing sinews under his skin, but there's also - and she swears she can see it from her spot - a drop of sweat slowly, very slowly, rolling down his spine.

And damn, if she doesn't want to get up and lick that drop away.

He looks over his shoulder, straight into her eyes, and for a moment her breath catches audibly.

He doesn't say a word, doesn't need to.

There's a look in his eyes that tells her that he'll take off still more than his shirt today.

Later.

They might not leave this overheated building. And she might take off quite a few of her clothes as well.

Later.

Until then, with an innocent grin that is far from pure, she keeps enjoying the view of him hauling artificial cooling equipment into the office. Half-naked.

Damn, she's so shallow. So happily shallow.


End file.
